Reprise: The American Idiot story
by KbBoY127
Summary: The story behind the album...  A teenage boy named Johnny is sick of his life at home with his abusive alcoholic father and everything else, and decides that enough is enough, and runs away...
1. The Son of Rage and Love

**American Idiot**

Chapter 1: The Son Of Rage And Love

The moon shone over the cracked streets and broken homes of Jingletown, USA. The dogs howled in an unnatural, one might say 'out of key' way at it's presence, a sound which would transform confident young tourists into blithering idiots and cause them to turn back around and get the hell away from the place.  
>Down a particularly dirty street, just past the broken lampost with its light hanging down, making it look almost ashamed to be situated in the location, and down a small, constantly dark alleyway, was a house. The door had been roughly placed in such a rough and uneven fashion that it was almost at a 45 degree angle on the front of a crumbling wall, blending in with its shadowy surroundings exceptionally well. If a person was to step inside this place, having already seen the outside, they would not be suprised at what they found. Not only was it tiny, even miniscule, it was as dirty as the streets outside its lobsided door. Situated on a stained rug in the middle of the floor was a man so scruffy looking that he could have been a homeless alcoholic. As it happens, he was indeed an alcoholic, which was why he was slumped passed on out on his floor. Everything about him was large, from his huge waist to his bushy black eyebrows, sitting above eyes that had clearly been subject to the after-affects of drugs. Suffice to say, he was a mess.<br>But if a person had entered this house, and saw this man, their curiousity would compell them to venture up the nearby staircase as well, where once at the top, they would turn to see two rooms. Inside one of these rooms, sat a teenage boy of about 17, crying. It was obvious from the way he cried, in a nonchalant, indifferent way,  
>that he was used to this. His eyes were also red, and the cause could be seen on his bedside table, tiny grains of a white powder, cocaine. Of course, it was highly doubtful this was his own cocaine, as he couldn't afford it and there was no way his father would give him any. Not out of care and consideration, only because that was his father's andhe was a selfish, hateful man, who would give nothing to anybody except himself. In this case however, that was a good thing, but it hadn't stopped the boy from aquiring some and sitting there, on his rotten, creaking bed, sniffing, crying and twitching.<br>There where also several cans of cheap soda littered about his bare floor and a tipped bottle of medication, which could be identified as Ritalin. This boys name was Johnny, but he liked to call himself the 'Jesus of Suburbia'. His reasons for this were simple, he was the only person living here who wanted to make a difference in this place, but he was hindered by the very thing he wanted to change...his life. He was sick of it all, and he was close to the edge. Downstairs again, the door creaked open and a short, plump woman who looked far older than she actually was staggered inside, carrying bags of nothing. This was Johnny's mother, and unlike his father, she loved him. His father stirred and picked himself up off the floor, grumbling and retching, then looked at the woman.  
>''Well? Where the hell's my booze? I asked for it bout' an hour ago or summat! DAMN IT WOMAN WHERE IS IT?'' He yelled, making the poor lady it was directed at jump a mile.<br>''I... i got mugged on the back... they tore my dress, look...'' She stammered, showing the man her dirty dress, which ahd indeed been torn quite badly.  
>''I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT! I WOULDN'T CARE IF YOU GOT YOUR FUCKIN' HEAD CAVED IN, YOU BRING MY BOOZE WHEN I FUCKIN' ASK!'' Johnny's father screamed, stepping towards her.<br>''NO! Please, Phil, DON'T! I'm sorry! I managed to keep one bottle safe! PLEASE! Look!'' His wife stammered, holding out a bottle of exceptionally strong liquor, shaking madly.  
>Phil looked at the bottle, then ripped it from her hands. ''Right, that's good'' He muttered, then placed the bottle down. The terrifed mother in the doorway then relaxed slightly. Suddenly, Phil turned around and smashed her straight in her face, knocking her out cold instantly.<br>''DON'T EVER COME BACK WITHOUT THE REST AGAIN!'' He boomed, shaking with alcohol-fuelled rage. He then went back to the rug, and sat down, drinking deeply. His wife lay still.  
>Johnny watched the scene from the stairway, unnoticed. He shook with both fear and rage, but knew better than to speak out. There was no way he could take this for much longer. Being stuck here, in this hell-hole was driving him to the point of suicide, and he knew it. He had to get away, and soon.<br>And this home, this enviroment, this whole dirty, crumbling place, is where our story begins.


	2. To Live And Not To Breathe

**American Idiot**

Chapter 2: To Live And Not To Breathe

Johnny awoke a few hours later, after passing out on his bed again. It was becoming a regular thing, but he wasn't worried. If his stepfather hadn't died yet, then he knew he wasn't going to any time soon either. A constant tapping was what had woke him, and he observed his room through drowsy eyes looking for its source, which he soon discovered was the window. _Who the hell is chucking shit at my window?_ He thought, dragging himself over and opening it roughly, having to pull slightly harder towards before it opened fully, as it jammed at times. He squinted outside and saw Tunny standing there, holding a couple of stones.  
>''You alright mate? Get your lazy arse up and out! I'm flippin' bored to death and back out here on me own! Bet you've been on the booze again haven't you? Silly sod''<br>''Tunny...I am going to kill you. When I get down there.''  
>''Oh, that's okay then, plenty of time to plan an escape route then haven't I dear?''<br>Johnny laughed, then closed the window and went to put something warmer on, as purely underwear wasn't good for a person out in the cold.  
>Tunny just stood and waited patiently. He wouldn't deny it, he was worried about Johnny. Everyday he seemed to be changing, and not in a good way. He was at breaking point, and that was what worried him.<br>Tunny was a tall, slim boy, with spiked-up blonde hair and a face that you couldn't help but laugh at. He wasn't unnatractive, it was simply the fact that he was just a natural comedian, and just looking at him would most likely make a person smile. He heard the window open once more, and Johnny jumped out, landing on top of a large pile of garbage bags, placed there by Tunny a little bit before he first opened the window.  
>Johnny picked himself up and tore after his laughing friend, right up until they both ran out of breath, next to a pub.<br>''God...i'm knackered!'' Johnny panted, his hands on his legs, bent double.  
>''Do you spell that with a K at the beginning or an N?'' Tunny pondered.<br>''How should I know? Only place i've ever been taught is in this here pub!'' Johnny smirked, looking at the pub door admiringly.  
>''Oh aye, the seven-eleven eh? Good stuff mate, good stuff.''<br>''Why do we even call it that?''  
>''What, good stuff? We don't, we call it the seven-eleven you fool!''<br>''Oh shut it, let's go in...see if you can get served baby face.''  
>Tunny recoiled at Johnny's remark, and pushed in front of him confidently. There was no chance in hell he would have Johnny get served and him refused!<br>He strode casually over to the barman and coughed loudly. A bit too loudly actually.  
>The barman glanced at him, scanning his features. ''What do you want?'' He asked.<br>''Erm, a drink of course! What else would I want? Not like i'm not supposed to be here or anything...this is a pub after all! Right?'' Tunny stammered. He was losing his cool.  
>''I meant what drink do you want mate.'' said the barman, who now looked annoyed.<br>Tunny held in a sigh of relief, that would give him away for sure. ''Oh sorry, erm i'd like a pint please''  
>''Of what?''<br>''You know...the...stuff''  
>The barman rolled his eyes and went to the stockroom, grumbling.<br>_cheery fellow_ Tunny thought, then turned to Johnny. Johnny wasn't there. 'Oh god, where the hell is he? Johnny? JOHNNY!' He yelled.  
>''I'm right next to you dickface''<br>''Oh, just testing your erm, close range hearing abilities mate''  
>''Course''<br>The barman returned, and Both Tunny and Johnny were stunned to see he had a bottle of alcohol clearly labeled, 'The Stuff' in his hands. He poured Tunny a pint.  
>Tunny paid him, still shocked, then sat down at a nearby table. He looked over at Johnny, who was very quiet.<br>''Johnny mate, I need to talk to you'' He said softly, looking at him in concern.  
>''You do that enough'' Johnny smirked, looking back at him, with eyes that didn't seem to see him at all.<br>Tunny ignored him and continued. ''Listen Johnny, lately you've been...different you know? I know you have problems with your mom and Phil but... come on mate, what's going on in that big ol' melon of yours eh?''  
>Johnny remained silent for a few seconds, then spoke. ''I'm sick of it all Tunny, sick to death and back. I can't take it much longer. Seeing my mom get attacked by that bastard every day and night, being stuck in my room with the only thing to help me through it all being drugs? I'm never going to make anything of myself around here,<br>with all this, and I aint' letting myself become a nobody...it's like i'm living but i'm not breathing... I want out of here'' He croaked, his voice cracking with emotion.  
>Tunny looked at him for a moment, then seemed to decide something. ''Right then, we're off. Tomorrow. Pack your shit and get ready, meet me outside your window at midnight. You want out, then you're gonna get out. Hell, both my parents are dead, I live in an orphanage, so it's not like i'll be missed is it? No-one except you cares what happens to me, you know what I mean? It's not like anyone's ever died for my sins! Well, least the ones i've gotten away with... so yeah, let's get out of here mate''<br>Johnny stared at him, dumbfounded. Suddenly, he jumped up and hugged Tunny, long and hard.  
>Tunny gasped in suprise, then relaxed and chuckled.<br>''Thanks Tunny...we'll make something of ourselves, just you wait and see!'' Johnny said, smiling broadly.  
>''You're damn right we will... we're off to the big city, to see the lights and the girls and the ACTION! Although I guess girls are action too...'' Tunny laughed.<br>''Guess we better say goodbye to the seven-eleven then?'' Johnny said, looking around.  
>Tunny jumped up and yelled ''SEE YOU MATEY!'' Then ran out of the pub, Johnny following and laughing. The barman smirked as he watched them go.<p> 


	3. Dearly Beloved

**American Idiot**

Chapter 3: Dearly Beloved

That night, Johnny stayed up quietly packing his things, taking extra care not to disturb his father in any way. Phil was downstairs, watching a battered-looking television and grumbling as usual.  
>''Never anythin' on this fuckin' thing...'' He muttered in annoyance, yet his eyes remained glued to it. Phil was indeed Johnny's father, but as Johnny did not want to accept the fact that such a monster had brought him into this world, he refered to him as his step-father. Tunny followed suit, as Johnny's mother had always been kind to him,<br>and he respected her, which caused him to hate Phil almost as much as Johnny did.  
>Johnny picked up his bags and placed them by the window, then sat down on his bed and waited.<br>A few minutes later, he suddenly remembered something, and quickly grabbed a small sheet of paper. He was writing a note to his mother, because he had to let her know what he was doing and why he was doing it. But not where he was going, oh no, he couldn't risk a search party. Not that Phil would even bother getting up and organising one, he doubted he would even care.  
>''That bastard'' Johnny whispered, just incase he was heard, ''He's the reason i'm going...there's no way i'm gonna turn into him, not ever''. He carefully placed his pencil down and looked at what he had wrote.<p>

_Dear Mom,_

_I can't take this place anymore, i'll never make anything out of myself here, and I can't watch Phil attack you any longer. What are we? A family? We're not Mom, we can't ever be..._  
><em>so just what are we? Are we demented? Or am i just disturbed? I know nobody's perfect and I myself stand accused... but Phil is just beyond any means of help. Please Mom,<em>  
><em>don't come and look for me, don't cry for me, just be happy that i'm moving on with my life...and promise me, please, just one last thing...get away from him. Leave him behind in this hell-hole, and make your own way out of here, for me. Please.<em>  
><em>Look after yourself Mom, I'll always love you...more than i could ever say.<em>

_Johnny xxx_

''Well...that will have to do'' Johnny croaked, wiping the tears off his shirt and from his eyes. He turned as he heard a tapping on the window, then walked over to it and opened it up slowly.  
>Tunny was standing there, looking excited and fearful at the same time. ''Are you ready mate? This is it you know...we're not coming back!'' He said, talking quickly and quietly, his breathing quite fast as he stood, shuffling his feet in anxiety.<br>''Yeah... yeah i'm ready. Let's leave this place...this place full of shit and hypocrites'' Johnny said quietly.  
>''Hell yeah!'' Tunny grinned, then held his arms out, ''Come on, i'll catch you this time! Throw your bags out first and i'll catch them as well''.<br>Johnny did as he said, then picked himself up off the floor. Tunny had lied about catching him as well.  
>''You utter twat Tunny''<br>''Hey hey, no need for that! I merely misjudged where you would land''  
>''You were standing 3 meters away!''<br>''Exactly''  
>They both laughed, then stopped and turned to look at the house. They glanced at each other.<br>''This is it''  
>''Yeah''<br>''We're goin''  
>''Yeah''<br>''Can I grab a coat?''  
>''No''<br>''Damn you Johnny''  
>And with that, they turned and ran, ran away, away from the broken homes and the cracked streets, away from the howling dogs, away from their life, and into a new one.<p>

_A few hours later_

Johnny's mother was sat in his now-vacant bedroom, reading the note he had left. Phil stood in the doorway, panting and grunting, clearly fuming.

''The little bastard's gone has he? How DARE he leave without my permission! Oh well, suppose i'm better off without the fucker anyway...OI! Woman! What're you taking so long reading that thing for? I'm starving!'' He bellowed, then turned and walked downstairs, muttering under his stinking breath.

Johnny's mother put down the note, taking it all in. Then she put her head in her hands, and cried. She cried for so long that she lost track of time, but eventually, she stopepd. _I may have gone against your wish for me not to cry, my son, but I WILL get away from that monster...in time, I will._ She thought, not daring to speak out loud.

She picked herself up slowly, then stopped and began crying again.


End file.
